


Simulacrum

by merry_amelie



Series: Stand-alones [10]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-07-23
Updated: 2003-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-12 11:02:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4476905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simulation becomes stimulation for Qui-Gon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simulacrum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [splix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/splix/gifts).



> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.

Never let it be said that Master Qui-Gon Jinn neglected the latest training techniques. With his former Padawan newly Knighted and off on his first mission, Qui-Gon felt in need of a little sparring of the type only Obi-Wan Kenobi could provide.

Jinn set off for Training Room 7C and a little 'saber practice with the Temple's new Holosim system. Every Knight and Master could be called up by comp for combat practice. The holo was indistinguishable from the real person, down to individual personality quirks.

Qui-Gon quickly entered Kenobi's profile, and scant seconds later saw the man striding towards him, hand outstretched in greeting. Feeling foolish but delighted nonetheless, Jinn grasped the sim's hand in both of his own.

"Hello, Qui-Gon. It's wonderful to see you down here. Up for a little sparring this afternoon?"

Jinn gazed at the sim, fascinated. He was the very picture of his former apprentice: auburn hair growing out of the Padawan cut, and already brushing his collar; soft beard obscuring his cleft chin. Without releasing his hand, Qui-Gon tried an experimental reply, wanting to see how up-to-date the system really was. "Back from Parset 2 already, Obi-Wan? How was the mission?"

Crinkles formed around the Knight's eyes. "A milk-run, Qui-Gon, simply witnessing the succession of a monarchy that's lasted a few hundred years."

Qui-Gon was growing comfortable with the holo; he let himself think of him as Obi-Wan. He laughed and said, "Well, I'm glad you're back."

They raised their 'sabers in salute, then set to it.

* * *

Master Jinn allowed himself the indulgence of sparring with 'Obi-Wan' every day for the duration of the Knight's mission. What he could not know is that Obi-Wan would arrive at the Temple a little earlier than anticipated.

Knight Kenobi strode down the corridor, drawn to Training Room 7C by his former Master's Force signature. He wanted to surprise Qui-Gon with his early return and successful completion of his first solo mission.

Obi-Wan stopped by the window and froze. Qui-Gon was engaged in a fierce sparring match with a twin of Obi-Wan himself. Engrossed in the action, neither man had noticed Obi-Wan's observation. He quickly shielded himself and crept into the shadowy left corner of the salle.

Obi-Wan's eyes were drawn to the flashing control panel on his right. Of course! Qui-Gon was using the new Holosim comp. Apparently, the system had been perfected. Obi-Wan's own fighting style was on full display before him: high-flying aerials; mastery of the kata forms, evident in this practice match; even the cocky tilt of his head, angled toward Qui-Gon's eyes, radiating intense concentration.

Master and sim powered down as the match ended in another draw, and Obi-Wan received his second shock of the day. Instead of clapping the holo on the shoulder, as Qui-Gon had done to Obi-Wan for years, Qui-Gon let himself be drawn into a hug by the sim.

Obi-Wan sank to his knees. The holo's initiative startled him, although he knew that the new training system was successful in part because of its intuitive capabilities. But to see a simulacrum of himself do what he had always dreamed of with Qui-Gon was both a revelation and a punch in the gut.

Qui-Gon knew that this sim was not his Knight. Why did he allow familiarities from him that he had never encouraged from Obi-Wan himself? Did he want the new Knight to behave like that towards him?

Pondering these questions, Obi-Wan waited for Qui-Gon to stop the program and head to the showers. He returned to his quarters, left Qui-Gon a message, and eased into a much-needed meditation.

* * *

Qui-Gon invited him to a 'welcome home' dinner in his rooms the next day. Obi-Wan smiled to see his Temple favorites, many unavailable off-world, sitting on the counter. He intended to make serious inroads in the curried palal, in particular.

As they sat across the table from one another, the easy camaraderie that they thrived on reasserted itself, and it was as if they had been parted for a few clicks, rather than a ten. Until...

"How was your mission, Obi-Wan?"

"It was a milk-run..." Obi-Wan broke off, seeing his former Master's face turn the color of milk. "What is it, Qui-Gon?"

"Do you mind if we change the subject?"

Though puzzled, Obi-Wan of course complied. "How have you been?" Obi-Wan saw the faintest flush work its way across Qui-Gon's cheeks. Clearly, their usual comfortable banter had transmuted into a conversational minefield. All roads led to Training Room 7C.

Since Qui-Gon hadn't answered yet, Obi-Wan plowed on with another question. "Did you miss me?" he asked with his patented insouciance.

"Pass the cherrafruit sauce, please," said Qui-Gon, as he attempted to regain some of his usual aplomb.

* * *

Their reunion meal taught Obi-Wan a crucial lesson: they would not be able to talk their problem through. Qui-Gon would never willingly broach the subject of the holo, probably from some admixture of guilt and fear, elements that had rarely been present in their relationship before.

Obi-Wan quietly formulated a plan that might resolve the impasse.

* * *

Qui-Gon could not let go of the rapport he had developed with Holo Obi. Once a week since the Knight's return, he had gone to 7C to bask in Obi-Wan as he would like him to be: warm, loving, and his.

That night, Qui-Gon headed down the familiar corridor, eager to see him again. 'Obi-Wan' greeted him in what had become his customary fashion: a kiss to the cheek. Qui-Gon had never done anything to encourage the sim to move beyond that, since he harbored ongoing fears of taking advantage of the situation.

Something was different today. Qui-Gon could smell a trace of sweat on 'Obi-Wan's' skin. One thing the program hadn't mimicked was smell, the most primal of all the senses.

He looked over at the control pad. All of the indicators appeared nominal, but upon closer inspection he saw an unfamiliar light: suspend. Smiling to himself, Qui-Gon realized that he had Obi-Wan Kenobi in the flesh in front of him. His Knight had found him out, and now was here before him. What was his purpose? Why had he not spoken to Qui-Gon instead of attempting this masquerade?

The two men began to spar, and Qui-Gon could quickly feel the difference between fighting with the holo and the real thing. Exhilaration raced through every atom, joy burst through his shields: he beheld his perfect match. Since his Knighting, Obi-Wan had improved his formidable skills, and now brought his Light to the salle and Qui-Gon's heart.

Obi-Wan won their match handily, and waited for the hug that Qui-Gon had freely given the sim. It didn't come.

"Obi-Wan, I'm sorry."

The Knight gave him a bewildered look. Was Qui-Gon talking to him or the holo?

"I know it's you, Obi. The comp is in suspend mode."

Well, that cleared that up. "Why are you apologizing?" Obi-Wan asked hesitantly. "I owe you an apology for trying to trick you just now."

"Can we continue this discussion in my quarters after we shower?" Qui-Gon mopped sweat off the back of his neck with a towel.

"Certainly."

* * *

Clean and mostly dry, the two Knights sat on the couch in Qui-Gon's common room.

"It seemed so harmless when it first started." Qui-Gon snorted humorlessly. "I missed you and used the holo system so I could have your company. His casual touches appeared tame enough. I didn't realize how much I had grown to depend upon and miss them when you were here, and I couldn't expect them." His voice lowered. "It was a violation, using a simulacrum to give me what I was afraid to ask of you."

Obi-Wan took Qui-Gon's hand in both of his own, in an uncanny inversion of the sim's first greeting. "It was a tribute and I'm glad it happened," he said firmly. "I've wanted to share greater intimacy with you for years now, but I was afraid as well. We've never talked about what we expected from each other after my Knighting."

Qui-Gon's relieved smile was a delight to see. "I've dreamt of asking you to be my partner, both in work and life. Do you share that dream, Obi-Wan?" He looked into lambent blue-grey eyes, and knew the answer yet unspoken.

"I do, Qui-Gon."

* * *

In the morning, after a better workout than they would have gotten in the salle, the two men headed out to Training Room 7C. Obi-Wan wiped all traces of Holo Obi from the comp's memory, and together they started to look for a room free of dubious new training programs.


End file.
